


The Woes of Mistletoe

by sir_kingsley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 4+1, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Christmas Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Dean Winchester, Love Confessions, M/M, Mistletoe, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, New Years, Pining Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22070962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_kingsley/pseuds/sir_kingsley
Summary: Four times Dean gets stuck under the mistletoe with people he doesn't want to kiss and the one time he does.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Michael (Supernatural), Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Comments: 23
Kudos: 319
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	The Woes of Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This fic did not begin as a 5+1. It was actually supposed to be a short drabble but then things got out of control. I tried for 5 different scenarios but the fifth just felt awful so ta-da! A 4+1. It's unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. Hope you all enjoy! Happy New Year!

Music can be heard from around the block, blasting sentiments about Christmas trees and jingle bells. Dean crunches carefully through the snow, following the notes of _Jingle Bell_ _Rock_ to a familiar blue door. 

He doesn’t knock right away, instead gracing himself with a few moments to prepare. He hates that this is a necessary step of visiting his best friend’s home now, especially when it had never been a problem before  _ he _ moved in. 

Dean stands on the doormat, donned with the cheerful face of a reindeer, and he just breathes. There are plenty of people here - he can already hear Charlie shouting something about Lord of the Rings - enough for him to latch on to and jump one to the next if he needs to avoid  _ him _ . He only needs to stay an hour tops and then he can perform a polite and nondescript Irish exit and hightail it home, something he’s become quite good at in the past year. 

Feeling reassured for this first time since he got the invitation, Dean opens the door and steps into the full swing Christmas party. He’d like to be able to say that the first thing he notices is how warm the little house is, or how it smells like cinnamon and pine. But that wouldn’t be true. Because what really catches his attention is hanging from the ceiling. And it’s not the presence of the little plant that startles him, it’s the  _ quantity _ . Because it’s hanging positively  _ everywhere _ . 

“Dean! Oh, wait- hold on!” 

Dean follows the call of his name and sees Charlie carefully navigating the room toward him. She weaves and side-steps until she’s finally in front of him and wraps him in a hug with a, “You made it!”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Dean says and squeezes her back.

Charlie isn’t one to fool, however, and leans back with an arched brow. “Says the man whose two hours late.” 

Dean doesn’t dignify her unspoken accusation with a response. Instead, he frowns up at the ceiling where no less than three separate sprigs of mistletoe hang just a few feet from him. And more follow behind them, dotted strategically across the living room and the little dining area that opens into the kitchen near the back. 

“We’ve been dodging it all night,” Charlie says, reading his mind. “Made a game out of it really. If you get stuck under one with someone you don’t want to kiss, you have to drink.”

“But why...”

“Did someone say they had seen Dean?”

A low voice calls from the dining area and Dean looks up at the same time Cas spots him. He watches his best friend’s big blue eyes become even bigger and then he’s smiling and shooting across the room, somehow avoiding the minefield of mistletoe, until he’s right in front of Dean and Charlie.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” he says as he pulls Dean in for a hug.

Dean goes willingly - some may say a little too willingly - and tightens his arms around Cas’s waist, holding him close for one long and painful second. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

“I was starting to worry you weren’t going to come,” Cas says as he pulls away and Dean quickly slides his hands into his pocket to hide the way his fingers are curled like they never wanted to let go. 

“‘Course I was gonna come,” Dean promises. “Just had to take care of some things.”

Charlie clears her throat beside him which Dean pointedly ignores. She doesn’t fight him on it, a Christmas miracle really. “Well, we’re about to start Christmas karaoke if you wanna join,” she says before dashing away. 

Cas moves to Dean’s side and they stand for a few silent moment, letting the party exist around them. Dean’s eyes can’t help but seek the little piece of mistletoe just about a half foot from Cas’s head. Cas’s eyes follow his and a deep red colors his face. 

“Uh, I know it’s a bit much,” he mumbles. 

Dean huffs a laugh. “Uh, yeah, a bit. What’s that all about anyway?” he asks and waves his hand loftily at the ceiling.

“Oh, well, Michael surprised me with it a few days ago. He said it’s so he has an excuse to kiss me anywhere,” Cas explains to his shoes. When he looks at Dean it’s with a crooked smile and his cheeks are still flushed. “Romantic, isn’t it?”

Dean can’t comprehend anyone feeling like they needed an excuse to kiss Cas, especially in the home they now share  _ together _ . But he keeps his lips shut until he finds the right smile to give. “Very. Heard it makes a pretty good drinking game too.”

Cas laughs, showing off his long neck that Dean has to force himself to look away from. “Yeah, that too. I was going to take it down but people seem to be having fun-”

Cas breaks off and Dean nearly jumps when Cas is suddenly being pulled backward and spun around in a crushing embrace. It all happens so fast that Dean doesn’t even have the time to look away before he sees two hands cup his best friend’s face and a pair of lips slide over Cas’s, sealing them with a loud kiss. 

When they separate, both men are smiling, though Cas’s much smaller and his eyes flit to Dean who swiftly glances away. “Michael,” Cas admonishes. “I was talking.”

“Sorry, baby, but I saw an opportunity and had to take it,” Michael says lowly, but not low enough that Dean can’t hear. He also hears the telltale wet smack of another, much shorter kiss. “What is that, number eighty-three?”

“You’re keeping count?” Cas asks. 

“So I know what record I have to beat next year.”

The urge to gag is strong but Dean suppresses it. 

“Dean! Glad you could make it!” Michael calls and the couple finally separates their bodies enough that they can both face Dean. 

Dean finds his go-to smile for when Michael is around. “Thanks for having me. Place is looking mighty… festive.”

Michael laughs and the arm he has wrapped around Cas’s waist pulls his friend even tighter into his side. “Clever, right? Gives me a reason to keep my hands on this one all day.”

Dean hates every word he just said but after a year of training his smile doesn’t waiver. “Yep. Very clever. Well, I heard karaoke is about to start so I’ll leave you love birds with your mistletoe. Or  _ mistletoes _ , I guess.”

“Oh, wait, Dean, we weren’t finis-”

Dean takes a long side step and slips between two people and safely away before Cas can finish his sentence. 

Dean takes refuge with Charlie and her group. He finds a safe place on the couch free of mistletoe and just stays there while people talk and sing and dance around him. When it’s his turn, he takes the mic and sings from his spot, unwilling to lose it or get caught in one of these kissing traps. 

He watches his friends bump underneath the springs and they laugh and share quick kisses to the cheek or raise their red cups to their lips. He purposefully avoids looking at any corner of the house he can hear Cas and Michael in. 

Dean checks his phone and sees its nearly 10:30 which marks his hour. Cas disappeared upstairs a while ago, Michael hot on his heels and Dean tries real hard not to think about how they’re spending their time. It’s the perfect time for his exit anyway.

He stands and carefully makes his way to the kitchen. He hasn’t had any food other than the few bites he’d stolen off Charlie’s plate, and while he’s not really hungry and in a hurry to go there’s no way in hell he’s leaving this party without a handful of Cas’s Christmas cookies. His friend was a disaster in the kitchen except when it came to these Christmas cookies that practically melt in the mouth. Dean only gets them twice a year - at Cas’s annual Christmas party and he gets his own plate for his birthday in addition to the pie Cas tries to bake and inevitably messes up. Dean always eats it anyway and follows it up with a cookie. It’s a good system. 

It takes Dean a minute to find the cookies in the buffet of other treats taking over the counter space, but eventually he spots them. Grabbing a napkin, he tosses a few inside and wraps them up carefully before popping one in his mouth. One for the road. Okay, two. 

Cookies in hand, Dean makes for the front door. 

Only to bump into Cas.

Cas just startles, both hands coming to cover the drink in his hand, while Dean jumps away, somehow feeling guilty like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Which, looking down at his treats, he kind of has. 

Cas’s broad smile takes a suspicious edge as he follows Dean’s eyes down to his hand. “Sneaking cookies, huh?”

Dean swallows the one in his mouth and offers a bashful grin. “You know I can’t resist.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Just get a plate, Dean. You look like you’re trying to-” Cas’s smile falls abruptly and his eyes snap to Dean’s. “Are you leaving?”

“Uh...” 

“Mistletoe!” someone calls loudly from the living room. 

Dean and Cas both look to their friends and find several fingers waving in their direction. Looking up, Dean spots the tiny spring dangling just above their heads.  _ Fuck _ .

“Kiss or drink!” Garth cheers. 

“Kiss or drink,” the rest of the party echoes. 

Dean immediately looks to Cas whose staring back at him like a deer in the headlights. Several possibilities come to mind and Dean is helpless to keep them at bay. He could just kiss Cas on the cheek like everyone else has been doing all night. Or maybe just a light friendly peck on the head. He could go extravagant and overboard and kiss Cas on the hand and make everyone laugh. Yeah, make a joke out of it. That would probably be best.

Or he could do what he’s been dreaming of doing for over five years now and finally find out what Cas’s lips feel like, how they taste. 

Something in Cas’s eyes seems to shift, soften even and they don’t look so alarmed all of a sudden but rather... eager. Cas eyes look down and he seems a lot closer, like he’s leaning in. And...  _ no _ , Dean thinks,  _ no this can’t be happening. I have to be imagining this.  _

While Dean has invested a lot of time into training himself not to ogle his best friend, he’s not able to keep his eyes from dipping a little lower just then, to Cas’s pink lips. Broad and pink and just a little chapped and already well-kissed.

Well-kissed by Michael. Who hung all this damn mistletoe in the first place. 

“Kiss or drink!” their friends keep chanting and laughing. “Kiss or drink!”

Cas smiles and definitely leans in now. He’s going to kiss Dean. And he doesn’t seem to be going for a cheek or forehead or Dean’s hand. He’s trying to  _ actually _ kiss Dean. 

Hot panic strikes through Dean like lightning. 

His hand shoots out and takes Cas’s drink, quickly bringing it to his lips and he finishes it in one go. When he lowers the cup, Cas is staring at him again with a blank look. He blinks, once. Twice. 

Dean clutches the cookies in his hand, feeling them break and it seems to match the feeling in his chest.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers before racing to where his coat hangs and fleeing the house, cursing mistletoe to hell. 

***

“You just had to wait till the last possible second to buy Dad a gift, didn’t you?” Sam grumbles as they peruse the busy mall.

Dean lets out a long-suffering sigh because he’s been asking himself the same question all day. “I know, okay? But it’s not like the man is easy to shop for.” He leans toward the display window of a sports shop. Maybe Dad needs a new football or something? “What did you get him anyway?”

“Tool set,” Sam says.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Typical dad gift.”

Sam shrugs unapologetically. 

Dean sighs again and moves away from the window. He can’t get his dad a damn football. 

They keep wandering for a while, trying to avoid shoulder checking the other patrons which is proving to be quite a challenge as more and more people pour in for their last-minute shopping.

After walking almost three-quarters of the mall, they find a little shop that specializes in men’s grooming. It doesn’t take long for Dean to find a nice shaving kit, complete with a spicy after shave and a fancy leather bag. He knows his dad will actually use it plus it’s just fancy enough to seem sentimental. Perfect for John Winchester. Plus he’s been complaining about the zipper on his current one anyway. 

Dean takes it to the register to get it rung up. 

“For an extra thirty we can emboss it with your initials,” the cashier says.

“Will it be done by Christmas?” Dean asks.

“It’ll be ready by noon tomorrow.”

“Why the hell not then?” Dean shrugs and leaves his dad’s initials on a slip of paper that is attached to the bag. 

When he and Sam walk out of the shop, Dean’s shoulders feel a little lighter. One less thing to think about. 

They’re on their way back to the car when Sam stops them outside a chocolate shop. “Hold on, Eileen really loves the turtles here.”

Dean shrugs and follows him in only to make a beeline for the counter when he hears the words  _ free sample _ . He does end up getting a small box of sweets for his mom and aunt, Ellen. A sweet smile at the register earns him one more free sample and he pops it in his mouth with a grin as they turn to leave the store.

“That complete everything for you?” Sam asks, stopping in the doorway. He pulls out his own list on his phone to make sure.

Dean tries to talk around the caramel melting between his teeth, “Yep. Got Mom, you, Jess, Ellen, Bobby…” He tries to think if he’s missing anyone. 

“What about Cas?” 

Just hearing the name almost has Dean choking on his chocolate. He smothers it well though, eyes cast down. “Uh, yeah, I have Cas’s too.”

“Where has Cas been anyway?” Sam asks and tucks his phone away. “Feel like I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

Dean shrugs, still looking anywhere but at his brother. “I don’t know. Haven’t seen him since the party.”

Sam snorts. “Wasn’t that like, three days ago? Are you and Cas even capable of going that long without seeing each other?”

Dean doesn’t like the question, doesn’t like the accusation Sam is making without really saying it. And he doesn’t like how it makes him face just how much he’s missed Cas the past three days and how miserable it’s been to not talk to his best friend. But Dean knows that he can’t. Not after what had happened at that party - or  _ almost  _ happened as it was. He sure as hell doesn’t like the memory it conjures of Cas’s kiss-ripened lips coming toward him and how for a microsecond it had felt like a dream come true only to be doused in ice water when reality set in. And Dean was forced to remember that he doesn’t get to kiss Cas. 

He still doesn’t know what Cas had been thinking going in for a real kiss and he’s not sure if he ever wants to. Maybe Cas had just been trying to be funny and kiss Dean as a joke. That didn’t make Dean feel better though. In fact, it hurt something fierce.

And to think all of this could have been avoided if hadn’t been for that goddamn-

“Mistletoe!”

The word draws Dean’s eyes up and he finds a young woman smiling and pointing above his and Sam’s heads. Dean looks up at that god awful plant in horror and then at his brother whose laughing awkwardly.

“We’re brothers,” Sam explains. 

The woman nods with understanding and continues on and Dean can’t resist reaching up and smacking the damn plant before walking away.

He hears Sam’s indignant scoff as his big footsteps come up on Dean’s heel. “You got a problem with mistletoe?”

Dean just grumbles and keeps walking. 

There isn’t much talking on the drive to Sam’s place. Usually Sam’s little brother instincts to nag and irritate allow him to just ignore Dean’s body language and pick at him regardless. Clearly something about his vibe today warns Sam off.

When they reach Sam’s apartment, he unfolds himself to climb out of the car and fetch his bags from the backseat. He leans back in the passenger window. Dean keeps his eyes on the road ahead but he can still tell that his brother wants to say something.

Instead of asking whatever it is, Sam shows mercy and asks, “You still coming to the Roadhouse tomorrow?”

Shit. He’d nearly forgotten about Ellen and Bobby’s Christmas Eve party. There isn’t a bone in his body that’s interested in anymore holiday parties but this is family and he knows he’ll be in for hell if he misses it. 

Dean sighs and nods. “Yeah, i’ll be there.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then. And Dean?” Sam asks as he steps away from the car.

“Yeah?”

“It’s gonna be okay.” Dean looks at him then and his brother is watching him with kind earnest eyes, the same ones he had as a kid and was fussing over his big brother whenever Dean got sick or hurt. “I don’t know what’s going on and you don’t have to talk about it. But we’ll get through whatever.”

The concern warms Dean and he works up a smile. “I know, Sammy. Thanks.”

Sam smiles. “Besides, it’s Christmas! You can’t be a Scrooge the entire time.”

Dean snorts and rolls his eyes. “Go give your wife her chocolates, you overgrown elf.”

***

The Roadhouse is loud and merry by the time Dean arrives, once again managing to slip in a few hours late. 

He’s immediately found by his brother and sister-in-law and they drag him to the bar with a mission to get him caught up. 

“About time Winchester,” Jo calls from behind the bar. She slides down their way with a bright smile and leans forward enough to hug Dean over the counter. “What can I get for ya?”

“Give ‘em the good stuff, Jo,” Eileen insists before Dean can say anything.

“Come on guys, I’m really not in the mood,” Dean groans but that just seems to spur Jo on as she grins wickedly and begins to pull out shot glasses. 

Five minutes later, Dean is wandering the perimeter of the bar with a nice fire in his belly. He bumps into more friends and family, hugs his parents, and gets a good lick to the side of his head from Ellen for being late. He’s got spiked eggnog and snack table just over the horizon so all in all he’s feeling pretty good.

Until he sees a familiar head - well, two familiar heads.

They’re like a couple out of a Hallmark movie with the way Michael grins as he helps Cas out of his coat. And Cas smiles back at him, small and secretive, and playfully bats Michael’s hands away when he goes to brush snowflakes out of Cas’s damp hair. They look so happy and domestic and like they’re in a world of their own.

It makes Dean sick, although watching Michael fuss over Cas always has. He gets that it’s supposed to be chivalrous and gentlemanly or whatever but sometimes it just looks overbearing and annoying. Cas is a grown ass man. He can shake snowflakes out of his own hair. Michael doesn’t even do it right because he always smoothes Cas’s hair down instead of leaving it messy and tousled the way everyone likes it. Okay, maybe just the way  _ Dean  _ likes it. 

But what makes Dean even sicker is that despite how much he may grumble about what Michae’s doing, there’s always an unignorable quiet voice in the back of his head that whispers,  _ I wish it were me _ . 

Before Dean can remind himself to stop staring, blue eyes zero in on him and Dean freezes. Cas appears just as startled for a moment but then something passes over his face. He leans toward Michael to say something and then steps away and begins walking toward Dean.

It’s the kick in the ass Dean needs to get him moving and he ducks behind group of old men before Cas can reach him. 

Some may ask,  _ isn’t it stupid to play hide-and-seek in a bar with your best friend to avoid talking? _ And Dean would answer, _ yes; yes it is _ . But that doesn’t stop him from doing it all night. The number of conversations he has to cut short is ridiculous and he knows he probably looks crazy with his eyes always scanning the room regardless of who he was talking to. But Dean simply isn’t ready for a confrontation with Cas so this is the best he can do until it’s time to leave. 

He’s about to slip into the bathroom to avoid Cas whose stalled talking to Jo at the bar when a pair of hands grab his wrist. 

“Is there a reason you’re running around in circles?” Eileen voices as her hands sign the question.

And he can’t really have a conversation with Eileen without looking at her so he tears his eyes from Cas long enough to say, “I’m not.”

Eileen isn’t going to fall for his bullshit, though, and she follows his gaze to the bar. Dean watches nervously as the gears start turning in her head and her eyes squint. “You’re avoiding Cas.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You haven’t talked to him all night.”

“How do you know that?” Dean challenges.

She arches an unimpressed brow at him. “I talked to him earlier. He said you haven’t talked in a few days.”

Dean doesn't know how to respond besides shrugging. “So? That’s normal.”

“Not for you and Cas.”

Dean feels anger boiling in his gut and his tone is a little too harsh when he asks, “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

If Eileen picks up on his anger, she doesn’t show it. Instead, worry crosses her face. “Dean, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

The thing about Eileen is that unlike the rest of his family, she possesses a little trait called restraint. In all the years he’s known her since she and Sam began dating, nothing he’s ever shared with her in confidence has been repeated to anyone he didn’t want to know. Not even to his little brother. Next to Cas, she’s the person Dean trusts the most in his life. 

So he doesn’t have to think twice about telling her the truth and nodding his head. “Yeah,” he tells her, hands signing slowly, “something big.”

She frowns, worry growing deeper. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Dean knows he must look completely helpless when he shrugs, hands open at his sides in surrender. “I don’t know how.”

Movement catches his eye and when Dean looks at the bar, Cas is no longer there. 

“I have to go,” he says quickly to Eileen.

“But Dean-” is all he sees before he’s spinning and marching for the door. He’s done his duty for the night; it’s time to head home.

He’s just about push through the door when he hears “Dean” and knows it’s Cas. Then the door is being ripped open and he hears another “Dean” but in a much lighter, feminine voice.

Dean looks up and has to blink a few times to fully process who he’s seeing. “L-Lisa?”

She gives him that thousand watt smile, flashing perfect white teeth and her brown eyes seem to light up as she takes him in. “Hey handsome,” she greets, stepping into the warmth of the Roadhouse. 

Dean feels like a fish out of water right now. This is too damn much. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I was coming by to wish everyone a merry Christmas. Were you leaving?” she asks with a frown.

“Uh, yeah.”

“This early?” Her frown lifts into a knowing smile. “You’re pulling another Irish exit, aren’t you?”

Dean sputters for a moment, instant denial spilling from his lips, “What? No, no, I just have to be at work and-”

“You’re a teacher, Dean,” Lisa says blankly. “You don’t have to work for another two weeks.” Her scrutinizing gaze shifts into concern and Dean starts to hate himself for causing all the people around him to make that face. “Is everything okay?”

At the moment, absolutely nothing is okay and the urge to scream is starting to eat at Dean’s last nerve. No, not a damn thing is okay. He’s miserable and avoiding his best friend like a child, he’s hurt and doesn’t know how to talk about it and the last person he wants to discuss any of this with is his ex. 

“Dean?” Lisa asks, drawing his attention.

Dean’s shoulders sag, all the energy leaking out of him at once. He shakes his head. “No, Lis. It’s not. But I don’t know what to do.”

Lisa listens carefully, big brown eyes open and friendly. That’s what had drawn him to her years ago when they first met. Aside from how gorgeous she was, it was how approachable she seemed, sweet and caring and easily loving. There are still moments where Dean wishes things could have worked out between them but he knows he ended things for the right reasons. It wouldn’t have been fair to continue a relationship with her when his heart is constantly with someone else.

And that someone is somewhere behind him. 

“I have to go,” Dean says.

She doesn’t try to stop him, just offers a smile. “Okay. But before you go…” Her eyes drift up and Dean follows and of course there’s mistletoe. 

Dean rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh that makes Lisa laugh. “Bad mistletoe encounter this year?”

“You have no idea.”

“Well, I’ll make this simple.” He stretches up on her tiptoes and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Dean. I hope you get whatever’s upsetting you figured out soon.”

The soft smile that curls Dean’s lips is genuine and grateful. “Thanks, Lis. Merry Christmas.”

***

Christmas day is quiet and pleasant for the most part. Dean wakes up and starts preparing his dishes for dinner at his parents. He watches the old claymation movies for a few hours before cleaning up and loading food and gifts into his car. 

His parents’ house is a little louder with everyone pottering around the kitchen. Mom had made a rule years ago that if you were going to eat Christmas dinner you had to cook something for it too. It wasn’t a big deal for Dean who has always loved working in the kitchen with his mom but for his dad and Sam it was a bit of a challenge. Sam at least has Eileen now to help him and Dean laughs on the counter as she coaches him on how to make a rue for macaroni and cheese. Mom assigns Dad simple things - to the benefit of everyone. Last time he’d cooked unsupervised the mashed potatoes had come out  _ gray _ . 

Once they’ve eaten they gather in the living room and pass out presents. Dean is very pleased to receive a rare Zeppelin vinyl from his parents and a certificate to get the Impala detailed from Sam and Eileen. Dad likes the shaving kit and even Mom seems to be a big fan of the aftershave Dean had chosen if the way she keeps obnoxiously kissing over Dad’s face is any indication. Mom tears up at the necklace she’s given, lovingly stroking each birthstone of everyone in their little family and she makes Dad put it on her immediately. Sam and Eileen exchange their gifts to each other and it’s adorable and domestic and Dean just leans back and watches with a smile. 

They all help clean up and once the kitchen no longer looks like a warzone they settle back in the living room for movies. Everyone is half asleep by  _ White Christmas _ plays on TV when the doorbell rings. 

Dean grimaces and gets up to answer it, not wanting to disturb the cuddly couples.He can’t help smiling to himself as he hurries to the door and pulls it open. 

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

Dean almost chokes on his tongue. 

Cas stands on his parents’ front porch, bundled up in his hat and scarf, snow falling behind him, a present in his hand. He’s looking at Dean with hard eyes that seem to say  _ I have you now _ and Dean can’t even argue. He has nowhere to run here. He’s trapped. His heart begins to pound wildly in his chest. 

“W-what are you doing here?” he asks eventually, voice as soft as the falling snow. 

The laughter that huffs from Cas is anything but humorous. “Well, you keep running from me and avoiding my calls and texts so I didn’t know how else to give you your Christmas present.”

Dean stares down at the intricately wrapped box. Cas has always been scarily good at gift wrapping. “Uh, I don’t have yours.”

“That’s okay,” Cas says and thrusts the present into Dean’s hands. 

Dean keeps staring at the gift and the longer he looks at it, the sicker he feels to his stomach. “Th- uh, thanks, Cas.”

He isn’t sure what to do from there so he slowly backs into the house and grabs for the door.

“Really?” Cas snaps and Dean looks up at him. “That’s it? You’re not going to say anything else?”

The sickness starts to turn to heat and Dean narrows his eyes. “What else do you want me to say?”

Cas doesn’t back down from the challenge. “How about an explanation for why you’ve been avoiding me the past five days?”

“You know-” Realizing how loud they’re getting, Dean steps out onto the porch and closes the door. “You know exactly why,” he hisses. 

All the righteous fury abandons Cas at once and his eyes look so sad Dean immediately wants to apologize. “I know,” Cas whispers. “I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to yell or be angry at you. I have no right to. I came to apologize.” He takes a deep breath and when he meets Dean’s eyes it obviously takes a lot of strength. “I’m sorry… for trying to kiss you. And… I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention and I-I don’t really know what came over me. But it was inappropriate and I’m sorry.”

For reasons Dean can’t explain, that apology is the last thing he wants to hear and it shatters him. Because he never wants to hear Cas apologize for kissing him, never wants to be reminded that they aren’t allowed to because they’re best friends and Cas is seeing someone and isn’t interested in Dean. He doesn’t need those reminders - not directly from Cas. 

“Why… why did you do it?” Dean asks. Because he has to know, needs to know if Cas had just been messing with him or if he really felt… something. 

Cas looks caught off guard by the question and Dean feels like such a dick. Cas’s face is red from the cold and he probably needs to get back to Michael and his family but here Dean is asking useless questions.

“I-I don’t know,” Cas says eventually. “I guess I just… I thought you wanted… and I-”

“So you know,” Dean cuts him off. This whole time… Cas knew. 

“I… know what?” Cas asks.

“You knew and tried to kiss me knowing that nothing could come of it?” Dean asks and his voice steadily grows louder. “Did you even think about how that could hurt me?”

“ _ Hurt you _ ?” Cas says, voice incredulous. “How would it have hurt you?”

“Because I can’t have you!” Dean bellows and Cas jumps. Dean twists the mistletoe between his fingers. “Maybe it seemed like a nice little joke to you.  _ Kiss the loser who's been in love with me for ten goddamn years _ .” Dean scoffs and shakes his head at himself. It sounds even more pathetic out loud. “My feelings for you are not a joke. Trying to kiss me in front of everyone like that knowing how I feel… just so you can go back to Michael while I’m left with…  _ what _ ? I can’t believe you would do that!”

Cas takes a step back and Dean regrets his tone but he’s helpless to control it now that he’s saying what he’s needed to for days - no, years now. 

“Feelings?” Cas echoes, looking more and more confused. “You have feelings for me?”

“Goddammit, Cas, it’s too late to play the innocent game-”

“I’m not playing a game!” Cas yells, hands balling into fists at his side. “I didn’t know you had feelings for me!”

Dean stops short. Cas is glaring at him, all heat, and looks ready to fight him to the ground. He’s not lying. He didn’t know. 

“Fuck,” Dean whispers.

“Ten years?” Cas asks, much louder than necessary. “You’ve been in love with me for ten years? Why didn’t you say something?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dean says and backs away. This needs to come to an end now because it can’t possibly go anywhere better.

But Cas follows him. “What the fuck do you mean it doesn’t matter? It matters to me!  _ Dean _ !”

“It doesn’t matter because you’re in a relationship,” Dean snaps and Cas’s eyes widen like he’s just remembering that fact himself. “You have Michael. And you’re happy together. And he’s good to you.”

“But-”

Dean climbs the steps to the porch and rests one hand on the doorknob. “Just go home, Cas. We’ll be okay, I promise. Just give me some time. Go home, though. I’m sure your family is worried about you.”

“But Dean, I-”

Dean slips inside and shuts the door. 

Four pairs of eyes blink owlishly at him from the living room. 

“Dean, honey?” his mom asks, her voice worried.

Dean raises a hand and shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going to bed.” 

He climbs the stairs and closes himself away in the safe familiarity of his childhood room. For a long time he stands, leaning against the door and reminding himself to breathe. 

Slowly, minute by minute his body comes back to him. He can feel the chill in his toes and the bite at his ears and the mistletoe still crumpled in his hand. He sneers down at it before tossing it in the little trash bin by his old desk. 

_ Fucking mistletoe _ , he thinks and dives into bed, shutting out the world around him. 

***

The days between Christmas and New Years are spent vegetating on the couch. Dean catches up on everything he’s missed on Netflix, even rents a few movies he never got around to seeing while in theaters. 

He’s got a fridge stocked with enough Christmas leftovers to feed him till February and a single trip to the liquor store guaranteed he’d be good on beer and whiskey till then too. 

New Years Eve comes in a blink and Dean can still be found on his couch, wallowing under empty beer bottles and dirty plates. It occurs to him that maybe this isn’t how he wants to end the year and so, after an hour of internal arguing, he finally gets up and starts to clean. Once he gets moving, though, it’s hard to stop and he gives half his day away to scrubbing his apartment top to bottom. 

It’s late afternoon by the time he finishes and this time when he falls on the couch it smells like lemon and clean linens. He smiles. 

As the hours continue to dwindle into the new year, offers and reminders of parties to celebrate the turn of the decade start coming in. Normally, Dean would be all for it. New Years parties are his favorite. Hopes are high, inhibitions low, flowing booze and midnight kisses? Right up his alley. 

But this year, it’s just not in him. 

He orders dinner, mostly because he really can’t stand the idea of any more leftover turkey and mashed potatoes. Thank god for  _ Postmates _ . 

The countdown to next year gets closer and closer. Dean isn’t one for resolutions most years; he knows himself enough to know he’ll forget all about them by February. But considering his current position in his clean but empty apartment, celebrating the end of the year alone, he figures maybe an exception is in order.

Many ideas come to mind. The typical  _ find a better job _ , _ go on more adventures _ ,  _ go to the gym, eat healthy, take more time for yourself _ . They all fall flat. Dean knows he’s not going to stick to any of that shit. Because he doesn’t want to. He’s content with his life the way it is now for the most part. He likes his job, likes where he lives, likes the trips he takes with his family, likes the food he eats. Could he use a few more vegetables every once in a while? Sure. But that doesn’t deserve a whole resolution. 

_ Fall in love _ comes to mind. 

That’s never been a problem, not for over ten years. The problem isn’t that he hasn’t fallen, it’s that he’s gotten stuck in love. Stuck with someone who doesn’t love him back. 

_ Move on _ . Two words but damn if they don’t pack a punch. 

_ Move on _ . Reluctantly, Dean nods his head. Yeah, that’s the one. 

Ten minutes to the countdown, Dean goes to fetch a new beer. He’d forgotten to buy champagne so this will have to do. 

There’s a knock at his door then, making him frown. Who the hell would be trying to pull a midnight visit on New Years Eve? 

Setting his beer down, Dean hurried to answer the door and is struck when he finds none other than Cas on the other side. 

“What are you doing here?” Dean asks, not even trying to hide the shock in his voice.

“We need to talk,” Cas says and marches into the apartment without an invitation.

Dean closes the door slowly before turning to his friend who is facing Dean like a solider preparing for war. He’s not sure if he’s seen Cas this stern and forboding since he told his parents he was going to become a teacher instead of going to law school. 

“Um,” Dean hums, not sure how to fill the space but feeling to need to, “no offense, Cas, but couldn’t this conversation wait until tomorrow? It’s almost midnight.”

“So it’s almost tomorrow then,” Cas says.

Dean rolls his eyes. Snarky son of a bitch. “That’s not my point and you know it. Aren’t you supposed to be at a party or something?”

“I was at a party. The same party you were supposed to be at,” Cas says and there’s a clear accusation in his voice that Dean looks away from. “Why weren’t you there?”

Dean shrugs. “Didn’t feel like being around people.”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “And it has nothing to do with you avoiding me?”

“What? No!” Cas’s eyes don’t waver and Dean would like to know how his quiet night turned into him being interrogated in his own home. “Look, if I just wanted to avoid you, I could have gone to a dozen other parties tonight, Cas. I just didn’t want to go out. I-” he shrugs again, not quite sure how to explain. “I just needed a break, I guess.”

Cas’s expression doesn’t change for a few seconds. Then, slowly, this suspicion and fight melts off his face and he’s looking at Dean with his big, earnest blue eyes. “I was worried when I didn’t see you.”

“Well,” Dean holds his arms out and gives a half spin, “as you can see I’m alive and well. So…” He glances at the clock on the TV and sees they have about five minutes till midnight. “Shit, Cas, you gotta get back. You’re gonna miss your New Years kiss. You can’t leave Michael hanging like that, man.”

“Michael isn’t there,” Cas announces. 

Dean frowns and goes to open the door. “Okay…? Well, wherever he is-”

“I don’t know where he is and-”

Dean’s frown grows deeper. “You don’t know where he is?” he repeats. “What do you- like he just wandered off? Do we need to go look for him?” He looks to Cas to guidance but Cas isn’t saying anything but his face is growing redder and more panicked and Dean figures he’d look about the same if his partner went fucking missing on New Years Eve! “Fuck, Cas, let me grab my coat. Did you call the cops?”

“For fucking Christ’s sake, Dean, will you please  _ shut up _ and  _ stop moving _ ?” Cas barks, stunning Dean in place. “Michael isn’t missing! We broke up!”

For a few moments, Dean doesn’t quite register the words. “Broke up?” he repeats. “What do you mean?”

Cas looks over his shoulder at the clock and blows out a frustrated breath. “We’re running out of time,” he growls. “Look, Michael and I split the day after Christmas. I think the events of the Christmas party and our conversation Christmas night put a lot in-”

“You mean it’s because of what I said?” Dean butts in and curses himself. “Shit, Cas, I never meant for it get in between you and Michael. Look, I’ll talk to him if you want. I can-”

“Dean, stop. It’s not your fault,” Cas assures him. “Michael and I have been struggling for a while. I know he looks sweet and doting but he can actually be very controlling and we’ve been fighting almost constantly. That’s why he did the mistletoe thing.”

“Okay…” Dean says slowly, trying to follow along. “Umm, what does this have to do with-”

“You?” Cas asks and Dean nods. “Because outside of our fighting, I had to admit that I wasn’t being completely faithful to Michael.”

Dean feels his eyebrows shoot off and get lost in his hair. There is no way on god’s green earth that Cas had cheated. He didn’t have it in him. Cas is the most loyal, trustworthy person Dean knows. 

“And, no, I didn’t have an affair,” Cas says, like he can read Dean’s thoughts. “It was never anything physical. But I had to be honest and tell him that I was in love with someone else. Have been for more years than I care to count.” Cas sighs a heavy breath. “I never said anything because I didn’t know how the other person felt. At least, not until Christmas night.”

Dean’s brain is processing each of Cas’s words one at a time so it takes him a while to catch up. Christmas night? But Cas was with Dean Christmas night. 

Dean swallows a large lump in his throat. Points at himself. Because he can’t seem to speak a single word. 

Cas nods with a thin smile, looking nervous and vulnerable and so damn beautiful. “I wasn’t messing with you at the Christmas party. I tried to kiss you because I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long and sometimes you would give these looks that made me think you might feel the same way and it just seemed like the perfect opportunity. I wasn’t making fun of you because I knew you had a crush on me. I just finally wanted to know what it felt like.” 

_ This can’t be real _ , Dean thinks.  _ None of this can be real. It’s just not possible _ . He shakes his head, like he can shake himself out of whatever cruel dream his mind had spun together. 

“Dean,” Cas says, and begins walking near him. “I’m not lying. It’s not a joke. I… I love you. I’ve loved you since high school. And I know this is a big adjustment, but I also know we’ve already wasted a lot of precious time. So… if you’ll have me,” he reaches into his coat pocket and with a rueful smile, pulls out a sprig of mistletoe, “I’d like to start the new year together. As more than friends.”

Dean eyes the mistletoe for a long moment, then looks up at Cas. Into big blue eyes that seems to be saying even more than Cas’s actual words. They’re sincere and anxious but hopeful and there’s so much love, Dean thinks he’ll always associate this feeling in his chest with the color blue for the rest of his life. 

“Are you sure?” Dean whispers. 

Cas’s eyes somehow become infinietely soft and he takes that last step so he’s right in front of Dean, touching Dean, hands cupping Dean’s jaw. “God, Dean, yes. I’m very, very sure.”

The countdown begins behind them, thousands of strange voices coming together to announce the arrival of the new year. 

Dean smiles and lets his own hands fall to Cas’s waist, wrapping around him and pulling him impossibly closer. “I love you, Cas,” he says. The words are almost garbled by the amount of emotion Dean has to talk around but he says them and his body feels lighter and bigger at the same time. 

Cas’s smile is brilliant and beaming and he lifts one arm to dangle the mistletoe over their heads. “Gonna do this right this time,” he says, making both of them laugh. 

The crowd shouts two, one….

Dean tastes Cas’s lips for the first time at exactly 12:00 a.m. January 1st, 2020. They’re dry but still soft and sweet and they move against Dean’s with the same level of desperation and need that Dean feels coursing through his entire body. 

By 12:05, they’re kissing in Dean’s bed, where Cas is laid out nicely on the dark comforter. Clothes are torn away quickly but carefully, allowing hands to explore new places, lovingly and thoroughly. Dean learns things about Cas that ten years of friendship never revealed and he stores each fact away like it’s a secret to saving the universe. 

He learns that Cas is a loud and vocal lover, he loves being kissed on his neck and hip bones and nibbling his inner thigh is welcomed but may result in being kneed in the face if not careful. He learns that Cas makes the most beautiful noises when he’s being opened on two fingers, and that there’s no lovelier sound in the world than Cas begging for more, faster, deeper, harder. 

He learns that the only pleasure greater than sliding his cock inside Cas’s tight, warm body, is the look of bliss and reverence on Cas’s face as he looks up, mouth slack and eyes hooded. Cas claws on Dean’s back like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline. He slips his hands up into Dean’s hair and pulls his face down to kiss and kiss and kiss. Dean learns that Cas really, really loves kissing. 

He learns that when Cas is close, his fingers and toes curl up and he likes to have his hair pulled. Nothing too rough, just enough to make him hiss and tremble. Cas starts to tighten around Dean and he keeps panting, “Please, Dean, please, harder. Love you so much. Oh, god, yes, right there, right there, I’m so close, Dean, feels so good.”

Cas comes like a clipped guitar string, tight and taught one second before snapping like a firework and trembling apart. He shouts and swears and keeps rocking his hips into Dean’s thrusts, pulling him right along. Dean hides his face in Cas’s neck while he comes, breath stuttering against sweaty, damp skin that he kisses and licks once his body starts to calm down. 

After a quick cleanup, the two fall back against the mattress, Cas wiggling around until he’s lying half on top of Dean, one hand playing in his hair and the other drawing patterns on Dean’s hip. 

“It still doesn’t feel real,” Cas whispers into Dean’s chest. 

Dean squeezes Cas’s hip where his hand is still playing with those incredibly sexy hip bones. “I know,” he agrees. “But if it’s not, and it’s just a dream, I don’t want to wake up.”

He can feel Cas’s smile before he can see it, Cas leaning back enough to look Dean in the eye. “I’m happy I finally get to start a new year with you like this.”

Dean returns his smile, a different kind of warmth spreading through him even as his body cools. “Me too. Just wish it would have happened sooner.”

Cas’s smile has a regretful edge. “I know. Me too. But at least we made it happen.” He leans down and kisses Dean once, twice, a dozen times and each kiss gets a little longer. Cas eventually pulls back enough to breathe and he laughs. “And to think, we got here because of a damn piece of mistletoe.”

Dean almost rolls his eyes. “I thought I was gonna have to start carrying a lighter around with me so I could burn every little mistletoe I saw.”

A devilish grin replaces Cas’s smile. Before Dean can do more than squint, Cas is rolling over the side of the bed to sort through their abandoned clothing. Then, with a soft “ah-ha!” Cas is rolling back and has that damn mistletoe again. This time, Dean does roll his eyes.

“You just had to bring it in here?” 

Cas bats his eyes and drags the little plant over Dean’s chest. “I think it’s redeemed itself, don’t you?” He leans down and kisses after the little trail of the mistletoe, sending a primal heat down Dean’s body. Dean shivers and Cas feels it, smiles. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Dean growls and in a flash has Cas on his back again, taking the little plant from him. Cas’s eyes are wide but his body relaxes into the bed, eager and excited for whatever Dean has planned. 

Dean circles the mistletoe around Cas’s nipple before leaning down to kiss it and suck it into his mouth. He sucks and nibbles and licks until Cas’s breath hitches, and then he moves to the next, once again brushing over it with the mistletoe before worshipping it with his mouth. Using that pattern, he slowly makes his way down Cas’s body and with each pleased sound Cas makes he thinks, _ yeah, maybe mistletoe isn’t so bad after all.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! For the record, Cas counts as someone Dean _doesn't want to kiss_ because Dean _can't_ kiss him due to Cas being in a relationship! He very, very much would love to kiss Cas the first two times but Dean Winchester is nothing if not a gentleman.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! Happy New Year!


End file.
